


The Man Who Hunted

by Roughnight



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M, Omega John, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roughnight/pseuds/Roughnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>.</p><p>Sherlock Holmes was an alpha on the hunt for the newest puzzle that landed on his hands in the form of a certain runaway omega from another land.</p><p>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Who Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> For those who will come across this fic, I would just like to say that I've included this one as a part of a multi-chap fic. This is now a part of John's chapter, **[THE MAN WITH NO SCENT](http://archiveofourown.org/works/770749/chapters/1446432)** , instead pf being a stand alone Part of the series. Apologies**

 

 

~*~

 

 

He was lucid and he was not. He was awake and he was dreaming. He had no choice but to succumb to the artificial slumber brought by that pesky little tranquilizer dart, had no choice in the matter but to allow his system for a _momentary_ shutdown, but he didn’t remain hopelessly unconscious for a long time. He remembered clutching so desperately to the last sensations he had scavenged out of the haze. He felt the firm, bold caress of fingers against his forehead, brushing at his curls; felt the subtle sniff of the other man, scenting him; felt the brush of palm against his arm, patching up his skin; and he fervently hoped he had been more in control of his consciousness, behind closed eyelids, so he could’ve analyzed the calluses of those warm, gentle hands.

_“But that thing that you did, it was…amazing.”_

 

And while Sherlock grumbled in annoyance against the sedative infused in his bloodstream and glared in his valiant wrestle to keep his head above waters like a drowning man, he thought he’d have smiled at the omega’s words had his lips were not dreadfully numbed. They were music to his ears, a string of lullabies so gentle. As it was, he had no choice but to later surrender to oblivion when he finally heard the omega’s footsteps walking away from their alley, the sound against the cobbled stone receding ever so slowly but surely, but he submitted only because he knew he wouldn’t be enslaved by the drug for long. The omega had underestimated him, had not known of his body’s immunity to certain chemicals, had not been informed of his shady past… The tranquilizer would not have been enough for anything but to buy the silly, interesting wolf a little bit of time.

 

~*~*~

 

 

His eyes snapped open, instantaneously alert, the after effects of the drugs so meager he could will it aside. It was just as he predicted. _Obvious_. He was able to immediately retain control of his faculties. What he hadn’t expected were the number of _tamed_ wolves in their funny boring suits wandering around the site like programmed trolls, dragging the already _bound_ puny criminals, picking up the gun, retracting out the tranquilizer darts, breathing the air, walking on Earth, talking, reporting, living, contaminating the scene… A growl rumbled from Sherlock’s chest as he quickly shot to his feet and strode towards the center of the narrow alley.

 

“ _Stop_! You’re contaminating everything!” He snarled to no one in particular, baring his human teeth as he whipped furiously around.

 

The alpha in him has managed to gather everyone’s attention to him, forcing them to heed his command and bow their heads even when they silently grimaced. It was simple biology he planned to use to his advantage as manipulatively and successfully as he could. They were too dull to actually attempt for subterfuge or whatever silly things their funny little minds can conceive to try to be smart around his orders. While it couldn’t fully appease him, he would’ve have been content by their submission enough to keep him back on track to what is most important which is to prowl around and trace the lingering marks of the curious omega. He’d have went about his business with his mood barely sullied had he not caught another alpha wolf’s scent and heard the distinct sound of leather heels against the stones echoing alternately with the consistent tap of metal tip knocking against the ground. He whipped around, his coat billowing in the air, and glared directly at another man just in time as the latter appeared from a corner. He was a man just as tall as Sherlock but was distinctly heavier. His eyes were steady and shrewd while his mouth was set on a grim line. He was an oppressive contrast against the uniformed wolves around the alley.

 

“Do carry on,” the man said lightly but without any trace of softness, as if he was just stating that the wheels should roll for the lights are green, and not really expecting that anyone would not heed him. And while he didn’t address it to anyone in particular, all the others had simply nodded, eyes on their feet and did exactly what they had been doing before Sherlock has regained control of his awareness and commanded them to cease. This man’s sharp eyes were on Sherlock all the while, holding the other man’s gaze.

 

“Mycroft.” Sherlock drawled disdainfully. “Should’ve known you’re the reason the air’s rancid, utterly despicable.”

 

“If that is your way of expressing your gratitude for my meddling in your affairs to save you, then you are doing a poor job of it.” Mycroft said, humming, the expression on his face fully controlled. “You could do a little practice. Truly, the precious minutes could’ve done the world a favor.”

 

“Might I remind you that nobody asked for you to waste your time in my affairs?” Sherlock replied curtly, his lips curling to a scowl. “If I know any better, it’s just you nosing about and being utterly annoying for the sake of your sick amusement.”

 

Mycroft glanced at the nails of his hands and idled about lazily as if pondering his reply. Looking at Sherlock from under his lashes, and ignoring the alpha’s statement, he casually drawled, “You’ve gotten in over your head this time, brother. While it says one thing about your courage, surely you did not think yourself capable of dealing against a most formidable drug ring by yourself—I’d say one that is dominating the London underground?”

 

“I handled it perfectly well.” Sherlock shot back.

 

“You handled an insignificant number of them—that would’ve hardly done any damage, just a mere graze on what is considerably a mature, self supporting bark.” Mycroft held his palm open, expecting, and true enough one of the men came towards him and placed a dart on his awaiting hand. He took a brief sniff at it before letting his hand fall to his side. “And you didn’t handle it alone. I presume that an appropriate way of showing gratitude ought to be in place for the omega’s help but I daresay I’m also considering going for punishment for having the gall to shoot an alpha—and not just any alpha at that.”

 

A growl came from Sherlock’s throat.

 

“You didn’t really think it would escape my notice that your curious man’s an _omega_ , brother?” Mycroft mocked, raising an eyebrow. “While there are only so little one could gather from video feeds, you’re essentially melodramatic enough for me to understand most of the details.” His lips twitched to what was a beginning of a smug grin.

 

“ _None of your business._ ”  Sherlock snapped as he rounded on the older Holmes, baring his fangs defiantly when he got near enough. He found him first. He was technically _his_. It wasn’t enough that Mycroft and his men had to sully the scene and the ground, and the air, and the omega’s existence, and the dart… “He’s _mine,”_ he hissed as he snatched the tranquilizer dart from Mycroft’s hands. The omega was Sherlock’s puzzle. Oh! _Oh!_ For Sherlock had just used his affected arm and was belatedly reminded of the knife wound the stupid alpha that was all muscles had inflicted upon him previously. He held out his forearm, brushed back the sleeves and scrutinized the gauze dressing that had been carefully and meticulously wrapped around his gash, tight enough to apply the pressure and precise enough to serve its purpose. _A medical man!_ Or one trained in the field. Sherlock wished he had been conscious enough to have deduced the man from the latter’s calluses. There had been enough touching and fumbling from the omega’s part. A few more minutes of his full control on his faculties and the omega would have ceased to be puzzle. Sherlock would’ve deduced him. He had been so close. His head whirling in calculation and equations and deciphering possibilities, he abruptly ignored Mycroft and whirled about, dangling the dart in front of his face with his bandaged arm. Good, still managing to keep the bleeding even with extraneous movement.

 

Oh, Mycroft had been right on one thing. That the omega had the gall to shoot him with a tranquilizer dart was one of the gravest mistakes the silly man had committed. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know it yet. Sherlock was quite officially on the hunt.

 

His brother faded into the background as he set his Mind upon the game. He whirled about, looking at the bland walls, imagining the armed men where they had previously lain before he had passed out and before Mycroft’s useless men started to wreck the scene. Knives, gun… One of the men had the gun! The omega seemed to be the practical sort where it counted, caretaker tendencies, Sherlock mused as he glanced about his bandaged arm once more and recalled how the thugs were found by Mycroft’s men already bound and secured by scraps of torn clothing. Omega would’ve surely disengaged and pocketed the bullets. He wouldn’t have let the man alone with firearms when the latter had an unconscious target nearby. Sherlock sniffed at the air. It was congested with alpha hormones which was frankly sickening and doesn’t contribute anything to his goal. It was hampering if nothing else. It would’ve been easier on his part had the omega’s scent were not suppressed but where would be the fun in that?

 

He went to the spot where the omega had carefully laid him and crouched on all fours, inhaling at the cobbled stone. The trace scents of mud, fresh grass, rain forest and _tea_ were still present and he had to find his way from there. _Tea?_ His lips twitched as he got on his feet and started putting the pieces together so they’d mean something. A medic. An army man. An omega who has hidden himself. _Why?_ A wolf on the run with only a burlap on his back. A careful, pragmatic man. A man like him couldn’t possibly have an ample supply of pills to keep his gender hidden, not when the chemicals were severely controlled in Scowall for unbonded omega and not when this omega had it in his mind to pack for first-aid medical supplies in that dirty little burlap of his.   _Was he anticipating a rough confrontation along the way or was he considering putting a fight?_ He’d have to be desperate enough to find a quiet place and be able to keep a new identity. This country fortunately also regulates and mostly discourages the use of pills and chemical suppressants. They had to be acquired underground and if Sherlock was correct, the omega was unfamiliar to the place and clearly had no ample resources. A few days, a weekand he’d be exposed to the wolves of the city which was of course not permissible. He had to get to the omega first.

_“But that thing that you did, it was…amazing.”_

 

A careful man of discipline who was _awed_ …at Sherlock’s deductions would have listened to the Consulting Detective’ words. That was the second crumb he needed to follow. Sherlock couldn’t help the predatory grin that stole at his lips as he pocketed the dart and pulled out his phone.  The screen that greeted him had been the text message sent by the other wolf to Mycroft in an attempt to get assistance to an unconscious and seemingly _-but surely not-_ helpless Sherlock. A short laugh rumbled from his chest. While this cannot serve as the third crumb, this was most definitely the second mistake the omega has committed after shooting Sherlock with a dart. And the text! He didn’t know if he ought to find this silly omega adorable or annoying.

 

He gave the screen a gleeful peck with his lips before proceeding to text his brother who was standing just a few paces behind him and watching. Sherlock pressed the send button only as soon as he had rounded the bend and disappeared from their fateful alley without another word. A prolonged exposure to Mycroft was bound to sully his day after all.

 

/Don’t meddle. SH/

 

/He’s an illegal migrant. Government’s business./

 

/Oh, please, as if the country isn’t littered enough as it is with the lot of them! Don’t make him _your_ business. SH/

 

/He’s an unbound omega./

 

/ Don’t meddle. SH/

 

The omega was his mystery at the moment. His puzzle. His prey. If Mycroft would stop being the irritating, meddling man that he is, he’d have been perfectly content in letting Sherlock investigate the matter on this runaway omega. He was doing the government a favor after all, saving resources and time, even when that was the last thing motivating the younger Holmes and not truly of his concern.  Mycroft had been spot on that the omega was not bonded though.  The blonde wolf was painfully expressive, his face saying the words in behalf of his tongue. Sherlock recounted the way the omega’s pupils dilated, the way his breathing hitched and the way he couldn’t help himself scenting at Sherlock when the alpha had crowded him during his early deductions. Not bonded but clearly of self control, this omega was made of. Interesting.

 

Sherlock stopped on his tracks before he emerged to the main street, from this narrow alley entry clustered with industrialized bins. He unceremoniously bent over the bins and rummage with his gloved hands determinedly.

 

Sherlock would rather think that he deserved the smug grin on his face and by all rights had to wear it as he stared at the ditched, mud stained cloak the omega has previously worn.

 

He was now off to find the third crumb.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet again unbeta'd so I send my sincerest apologies for any mistake. Apologies also for the delay, I've been seriously plucking out the plot of the story from the furthest corner of my mind since I didn't get to follow through immediately after the first part was conceived. Thank you all for your gracious support. ^^


End file.
